Yorkshire Ditties, First Series | Page 7

his sister closer still,
He kissed her tear-stained face,?And thus, in homely Yorkshire phrase,
He told their mournful case.

"Mi mammy, sir, shoos liggin thear,
I' th' shut-up bed i' th' nook;?An' tho aw've tried to wakken her,
Shoo'll nawther spaik nor look.
Mi sissy wants her poridge,
An' its time shoo had em too,?But th' foir's gooan aght an' th' mail's all done--
Aw dooant know what to do.
An' O, my mammy's varry cold--
Just come an' touch her arm:?Aw've done mi best to hap her up,
But connot mak her warm.
Mi daddy he once fell asleep,
An' niver wakken'd moor:?Aw saw 'em put him in a box,
An' tak him aght o' th' door.
He niver comes to see us nah,
As once he used to do,?An' let'mi ride upon his back--
Me, an' mi sissy too.
An' if they know mi mammy sleeps,
Soa cold, an' white, an' still,?Aw'm feeard they'll come an' fotch her, sir;
O, sir, aw'm feard they will!
Aw happen could get on misen,
For aw con work a bit,?But little sissy, sir, yo see,
Shoo's' varra young as yet.
Oh! dunnot let fowk tak mi mam!
Help me to rouse her up!?An' if shoo wants her physic,
See,--it's in this little cup.
Aw know her heead war bad last neet,
When putting us to bed;?Shoo said, 'God bless yo, little things!'
An' that wor all shoo said.
Aw saw a tear wor in her e'e--
In fact, it's seldom dry:?Sin daddy went shoo allus cries,
But niver tells us why.
Aw think it's coss he isn't here,
'At maks her e'en soa dim;?Shoo says, he'll niver come to us,
But we may goa to him.
But if shoo's gooan an' left us here,
What mun we do or say?--?We cannot follow her unless,
Somebody 'll show us th' way."

My heart was full to bursting,
When I heard the woeful tale;?I gazed a moment on the face
Which death had left so pale;
Then clasping to my heaving breast
The little orphan pair,?I sank upon my bended knees,
And offered up a prayer,
That God would give me power to aid
Those children in distress,?That I might as a father be
Unto the fatherless.
Then coaxingly I led them forth;
And as the road was long,?I bore them in my arms by turns--
Their tears had made me strong.
I took them to my humble home,
Where now they may be seen,?The lad,--a noble-minded youth,--
His "sissy,"--beauty's queen.
And now if you should chance to see,
Far from the bustling throng,?An old man, whom a youth and maid
Lead tenderly along;--
And if you, wondering, long to know
The history of the three,--?They are the little orphan pair--
The poor old man is me:
And on the little grassy mound
'Neath which their parents sleep,?They bend the knee, and pray for me;
I pray for them and weep.
Aght o' Wark
Aw've been laikin for ommost eight wick,
An' aw can't get a day's wark to do!?Aw've trailed abaght th' streets wol awm sick
An' aw've worn mi clog-soils ommost through.
Aw've a wife an' three childer at hooam,
An' aw know they're all lukkin at th' clock,?For they think it's high time aw should come,
An' bring 'em a morsel 'o jock.
A'a dear! it's a pitiful case
When th' cubbord is empty an' bare;?When want's stamped o' ivery face,
An' yo hav'nt a meal yo can share.
Today as aw walked into th' street,
Th' squire's carriage went rattlin past;?An' aw thout 'at it hardly luk'd reet,
For aw had'nt brokken mi fast.
Them horses, aw knew varry weel,
Wi' ther trappins all shinin i' gold,?Had nivver known th' want of a meal,
Or a shelter to keep 'em thro' th' cold.
Even th' dogs have enuff an' to spare,
Tho' they ne'er worked a day i' ther life;?But ther maisters forget they should care
For a chap 'at's three bairns an' a wife.
They give dinners at th' hall ivery neet,
An' ther's carriages stand in bi'th scoor,?An' all th' windows are blazin wi leet,
But they seldom give dinners to th' poor.
I' mi pocket aw hav'nt a rap,
Nor a crust, nor a handful o' mail;?An' unless we can get it o'th strap,
We mun pine, or mun beg, or else stail.
But hoamwards aw'll point mi owd clogs
To them three little lambs an' ther dam;--?Aw wish they wor horses or dogs,
For its nobbut poor fowk 'at's to clam.
But they say ther is One 'at can see,
An' has promised to guide us safe through;?Soa aw'll live on i'hopes, an' surelee,
He'll find a chap summat to do.
Another Babby
Another!--well, my bonny lad,
A'w wodn't send thee back;?Altho' we thowt we hadn't raam,
Tha's fun some in a crack.
It maks me feel as pleased as punch
To see thi pratty face;?Ther's net another child i'th bunch
Moor welcome to a place
Aw'st ha' to fit a peark for thee,
I' some nook o' mi cage;?But if another comes, raylee!
Aw'st want a bigger wage.
But aw'm noan feard tha'll ha' to want--
We'll try to pool thee throo,?For Him who has mi laddie sent,
He'll send his baggin too.
He hears the little sparrows chirp,
An' answers th' raven's call;?He'll never see one want for owt,
'At's worth aboon 'em all.
But if one on us mun goa short,
(Although it's